


Second Time Around

by speedgriffon



Series: I Shall Taunt You a Second Time | Dragonborn Fiona Fics [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Implied Relationships, Pre-Relationship, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 03:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17890367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedgriffon/pseuds/speedgriffon
Summary: Brynjolf and Fiona (the Dragonborn) meet for the first time. Or so he thinks.





	Second Time Around

**Author's Note:**

> Originally started as a short prompt-fill that got long enough to be a stand-alone fic. Set before all the other stories I've written for this pairing.

Riften.

It had been far too long since Fiona had been within the city gates. Her traveling across Skyrim as the Dragonborn had brought her within the Rift, sure, but she had yet to have a reason to enter the city proper. That is, until now. Delphine had sent her south on a hunt for an old friend of hers—a friend that would be able to help them rediscover the Sky Haven Temple.

As far as Fiona knew, finding this Esbern fellow wasn’t going to be easy. Made even more difficult by the fact that she was still unknown in Riften. Or at least, the guards and Jarl did not know that _she_ was the fabled Dragonborn. Perhaps she could use that to her advantage instead—less likely to be asked for money for information.

She loosened the fur cloak at her neck a little as she entered the Bee and Barb, looking for a hot meal before starting her hunt for Esbern. She’d need to secure a place for the evening if the search went on longer than expected. Inside, it was delightfully warm, the nearby fireplace alive with flames. Fiona peeled her gloves from her hands, discreetly taking stock of those inside as she dusted her feet against the entranceway doormat. She could tell that more than a few pair of eyes were watching her.

Without regarding them she approached the bar, politely smiling at the Argonian who was wiping down the tabletop. Fiona sat, and ignored the way the woman narrowed her eyes.

“If you want a room or food, you better show some coin first,” she explained. “Especially since I’ve never seen you around here before.”

Fiona nodded, understanding. It wasn’t the worst encounter she’d had with Skyrim’s innkeepers. “I’m good for the coin.”

The barkeep watched Fiona carefully as she reached to her belt, opening a small pouch before pulling out a few gold coins. She placed the septims on the counter, flashing the same small smile she had before as the Argonian swiped them up.

“What can I get you?” she asked, her tone shifting to something more pleasant. “A room? A meal? A drink?”

“All three,” Fiona responded. She placed one more gold piece on the bar. “Plus information. Have you seen an older man, possibly hiding in the Ratway.”

The woman nodded once, and Fiona allowed her to snatch up the money. She would regret it. “You’ll have to talk with Brynjolf.”

Fiona hid her annoyance, deciding it wasn’t wise to argue with a stranger providing a roof over her head. The Argonian placed a tankard of ale before her before gesturing to the firepit in the center of the room. “It’ll be a minute on the stew.”

The woman moved to the opposite end of the bar, leaving Fiona alone to nurse her ale. It was sweet, laced with honey. _Black Briar Mead_ , she assumed. She wasn’t alone for very long, sensing a body approaching her flank. Subtly, she lowered one of her hands to her waist, lightly gripping the hilt of her dagger. The body slid close to hers, leaning against the bar counter.

“Never done an honest day’s work in your life for all that coin you’re carrying, eh lass?”

Fiona turned her attention to the man, looking at him over the edge of her mug. The accent was immediately familiar to her, despite not knowing his face. She didn’t react, deciding to keep the façade up a little bit longer. Clearly, he hadn’t recognized _her_.

“Does that line ever work?” she asked in response.

The red-headed man let out a short, breathy laugh. “Not a line, just an observation.” His eyes flicked across her form, lingering where her hand was still resting at her waist. “You won’t need that, lass. I don’t bite,” he spoke. “Well, unless you want me to.”

“Perhaps later,” she returned in a low voice. This was all too amusing, but she didn’t have all day to play his game. Not like last time. “You said that last time.”

He raised a brow. “Last time?”

“We’ve met before,” Fiona explained. Six months prior in Solitude, at one of Elisif’s masquerades. He had hidden his face that evening, same as her, but that _voice_ was unmistakable.

“I think I would’ve remembered such a beauty as yourself.” Sly. She remembered that too. Carefully trotting the line of flirtation through casual conversation. She didn’t mind then, she didn’t mind now. As far as she knew, he wasn’t serious. Realization slowly dawned in his dark green eyes as he stared into hers. “Hmm. I _do_ remember those eyes, though. Hard to forget.”

“So I’m told.” Fiona purposefully blinked slowly.

“Well then lass.” He paused, mimicking her blink. “What brings you to Riften?”

She contemplated lying, but remembered how _useful_ he had been the last time when it came to information. “I’m looking for an old friend. I’m told he may be in the Ratways.”

“We never did exchange our names,” he said, off-topic. It surprised her momentarily, but she didn’t want him to see her falter and risk the momentum they had gathered. “What shall I have the pleasure of calling you?”

She tilted her head to the side, deciding not to lie about _that_ either. “Fiona.”

“Brynjolf,” he grinned. “I bet it’ll sound better on your tongue.”

“Perhaps later,” she replied slyly. He should’ve known by now she was just as good at the game as he was. Still, his eyes shimmered with surprise—she had _excited_ him. _Good_ , she thought. One step closer to getting what she really wanted from him. Again. “I was told I should talk to you about my predicament.”

Brynjolf flicked his gaze to the Argonian woman who had returned with another tankard for Fiona. Before she could take it, Brynjolf snatched it away, taking a long sip.

“Keerava, are you telling people about me again?” he inquired. “I thought I was your dirty little secret.” She only rolled her eyes.

“Go jump of a pier, _thief_ ,” Keerava spat, turning away from them both.

Brynjolf’s smile faltered slightly and Fiona could only quietly laugh. “Good to see the charm doesn’t work on _everyone_.”

“Careful now lass,” he responded. “You’ll admit more than you care to, talking like that.”

Fiona shook her head, deciding she needed to act. “Can you help me? I can pay you with my blood money,” she joked. To her surprise, Brynjolf slowly shook his head.

“I don’t want your money,” he scoffed, feigning offense. “But you could give me something else…”

The way he trailed made her thoughts immediately tread into something lewd. She tried not to take offense—what kind of woman did he take her for? As if he could tell she was discomforted by his remark, he shook his head again.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, lass,” he laughed. “I’m not _that_ easy. Neither are you.” Brynjolf placed his hand on the counter. “I’ve got a bit of an errand to perform, but I need an extra pair of hands.” He paused to tap a few of his fingers against hers. “Yours will do just nicely.”

Fiona resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and figured she’d try one last time to circumvent the delay. “You should let me find my friend first,” she paused. In a split second, she decided to hide the truth, for now. “My client says he can help stop the dragon attacks.” She tapped his hand in return. “Dragons are bad for business.”

“No.”

Her lips curled downwards slightly into a frown. “Why not?”

“I’m a busy man, no time to share such delicate information,” he drawled.

“Not too busy to flirt with attractive women?” Fiona countered.

Brynjolf smirked. It suited him. “ _Never_.”

Fiona thought about the proposition, wondering what she really had to lose. The mystery of it all sounded… _fun_ —at least in comparison to what she had been doing for the last few weeks. She didn’t mind the way he was looking at her either—reminding her of their first encounter. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She grinned.

“What do you have in mind?”  


End file.
